


its been an hour and your nose has stopped bleeding

by macdonalds



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Rose pov, and blood, dave likes bruises, hematolagnia, rose is a female boxer, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macdonalds/pseuds/macdonalds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and as soon as she hits the ground, the bell goes off. the crowd cheers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	its been an hour and your nose has stopped bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> I tried a new style of writing tbh

"david," he looks at you from the bordeux colored sofa and his eyes drop down to the floor because he knows you must go.

"don't come back without a medal," he says unknowingly. it was an amateur fight.

you smile and leak out of your house, as if there was nothing holding you back but a few tens of hundreds of stair steps.

you hated stairs, but they helped build a few muscles throughout your (used to be) skinny legs.

and many pep talks later, a few pats on the shoulder you were off to the ring. 

a few punches later, you were on the floor. you could hear your trainer yell at you, but you couldnt quite make out his voice.

you blink. you get up.

you take a few solid punches before you retaliate and direct all of your power into the jaw of your opponent. 

she falls back. 

she gets up, punches your stomach so hard you find it almost impossible to keep your hands up.

you take more hits, not solid ones, though.

you wait for an opening, you take it when you see one. (her left arm was lacking in strength, you thought, so she kept it closer to her face as defense.)

just as she is ready to hit you, you jump to her left and punch her, straight in the nose.

you hear a noise, a sickening one. a noise you were used to.

she falls back to a floor that wont let her get back up again.

your trainer offers to clean up your partially bloody face, but you refuse, as always.

you ponder a bit, a few laughs are shared with your trainer as you leave the stadium.

you go home. you unlock the door.

"lemme see 'em," he says, still on the sofa. he waited for you.

you plop your bag down and kick your flip flops off, your soles sticky and dusted with sand, from who knows where.

you sit down next to him, and for a moment you look into his eyes before taking a deep breath, resembling a sigh.

were you relieved?

"not very bloody," he remarks, touching the thin scratch mark located on your nose.

you flinch a bit, just a bit, when he squeezes your chapped bottom lip. it was the bloodiest thing on your face.

"how long did it take for you to come home?"

"an hour," you say, and even though your answer was sure and just, you shrug, and he begins to speak once again.

"your nose aint bleedin' anymore,"

"what a shame." you taunt, making him smile only slightly, just enough for it to look like a smile.

"did you give her hell?" he asks, as always.

"yeah. i did." you reply (as always)


End file.
